consider the odds, consider the obvious. the martyr is meaningless, the campaign has died. in the planning stages and the fallen faces are the singular proof that it was ever alive.

this purchased rebellion has been outbidded, denounced and rescinded and left to die championless. i begged you not to go. i begged you, i pleaded. claimed you as my only hope and watched the floor as you retreated.

does it comfort you to know you fought the good fight? basking in your victory, hollow and alone while you boast your bitter bragging rights to anyone who’ll listen. while you’re left with nothing tangible to gain.